Light through the rain
by PagesofPotter
Summary: Hermione encourages Ron to confide in her one stormy afternoon after the Battle of Hogwarts. Fluffy ending, but I'm not sure if Ron and Hermione are an official couple here, so you decide. Rated K-plus because of Ron's language. Unfortunately, I don't own anything Harry Potter.


The heavy rain fell in waves across the greying grounds of Hogwarts. The late autumn sky was unusually dark, and the sun seemed to be hiding behind the rolling clouds. Ron and Hermione made their way slowly down the slippy crooked steps to Hagrid's hut on the borders of the Forbidden Forest. As they paced across the grass, Hermione pulled her coat hood further down her forehead, and hugged the material around her against the wind.

As they reached the small building, Ron banged on the huge wooden door with the palm of his hand. "Hagrid?" He shouted over the rain, "Hagrid!"

Suddenly, a deep roll of thunder echoed around the grounds and soon, far over the trees, a flash of lightning lit the sky. Ron tried the door handle as the rain lashed down, soaking them further. "Oh bloody hell," he cursed. The door refused to budge. Hermione turned and squinted towards the forest. She grabbed Ron's sleeve and pulled him off the step and around the side of the stone walls; "Come on, if he's off in the forest he won't be long."

"Where are we going?"

Hermione stopped in a little patch of grass that was sheltered by the tiled roof between the two rooms of Hagrid's home. "We'll just sit here; it's out of the wind. There no point going all the way back." She sat down on a rotting crate that had probably been used to contain one or many of Hagrid's more interesting and dangerous creatures. Ron joined her, ruffling his wet hair. He looked cold, and a little grumpy.

Despite the storm that continued to crash around them, it seemed quieter and perhaps even warmer in their nook against the wall. They had been coming down to visit Hagrid for a catch up, while Harry was away at the Ministry reluctantly giving interviews for foreign newspapers. Hermione had wanted to talk to Ron alone for a long time, and alone here in the rain, seemed the perfect opportunity. She was concerned, and it showed on her fair features. "How are you?" she asked, gravely.

Ron glanced around them, "cold" he declared, before noting her solemn expression. "What?" he asked, "are you alright?"

"Yes, yes." Hermione nodded, and shifted uncomfortably on the damp crate. She was unsure of how to proceed, "I was just wondering… how you were coping." Ron frowned in confusion. "With Fred's...death." The drop in Ron's face was immediate, and he quickly turned away. "I mean, I just wondered if you wanted to talk." The pair of them sat in silence for a good few seconds. Hermione fiddled nervously with the cuff of her coat, and absently tucked her tangled hair behind her ear, though the figure beside her remained still. "Ron, you lost a brother" she muttered.

Ron nodded slowly in acknowledgement. He didn't want to talk about his brother, not with anyone. Of course it had affected him; he missed Fred so much it hurt. And he knew his family would never be whole again, and that scared him. He also knew, however, that if he was going to confide in anyone, it would be Hermione.

Ron took a shaky breath before replying; "It's gotta be harder for George though, hasn't it?" he said, gruffly. "And mum and dad."

"It's hard on all of you. All of us."

Ron stared at the ground. "I just… try not to think about it."

She brushed a strand of ginger hair away from his eyes. There was something he wanted to say, she could see it. So many people had been holding back so much since that day. Yes, it had been a victory, but there had also been loss. Terrible, terrible loss. "You can tell me you know."

Ron dropped his head into his hands, and spoke heatedly to his sodden shoes.

"I just, wish I'd been there. Maybe I could've done something… I mean if Fred couldn't, then I probably couldn't, but… maybe." Hermione put her arm around his wide shoulders as he trailed off.

"You couldn't have done any more than you did on that day, Ron" she pleaded, her voice rising with emotion. "You helped save so many people, including me." She leant towards him and smiled gently, "Fred would be so proud of you."

Ron grinned slightly in return, "To be honest, he'd probably take the piss. He'd say we should've let it go on a bit longer, 'till all the classrooms were destroyed."

Hermione nodded, "Probably." Beside her, Ron swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Smiling and laughing seemed unusual. He felt his eyes prickle with a trace of tears as memories of Fred flashed through his mind. Hermione noted his clenched jaw as he shuffled his feet on the wet ground, something he often did when he was uncomfortable. She reached forward and gently took his hand. "You're allowed to miss him, Ron."

Ron dragged his other hand through his damp hair. "I just don't want to make it worse, you know? Keep reminding mum and dad and Ginny…" Hermione tried to catch his eyes though they continued to stare defiantly ahead. "They wouldn't blame you. Everyone feels the same."

Ron sighed, almost angry. "I want to remember him how he was. Like when he and George set up the shop, or nearly blew up Umbridge with those fireworks, or nailed the Slytherins in Quidditch…" He faltered, and a tear slipped free from his eye lid. "But when he was just lying there, in the Great Hall…" Ron's hand roughly brushed the tear from his cheek.

Hermione hated seeing him so conflicted; he was hurting so much but for some reason, some twisted masculine logic, he felt he couldn't show it. All she could do was comfort him, and accept what little he confessed. "That will pass" she whispered, laying her forehead against his shoulder. "And you'll remember him smiling again, I promise." Ron rested his own head on Hermione's, and took her other hand in his. She was right, he knew. She always was. He only wished that the happy memories would return sooner rather than later. Everyone was reminded of the Battle everyday around Hogwarts, whether it be through the occasional piles of rubble that remained in the corners of corridors, or through torn paintings, burnt patches of grass, and empty spaces where particular students used to sit in the Great Hall, classrooms and common rooms. But through this there was still light, hope and happiness. And Ron hoped it would come, eventually.

He planted a gentle kiss on Hermione's hair, "what would I do without you, eh?" She smiled, feeling small but protected against his body while the rain flew around them. Yes, there was still happiness.


End file.
